


Water under the bridge

by Lady_Aurora



Series: What if [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, Swearing, but just a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27527164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Aurora/pseuds/Lady_Aurora
Summary: Now was the time to decide, which part of him was more important. The proud one or the one that was hers.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Lucius Malfoy/Reader
Series: What if [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889626
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Water under the bridge

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Beautiful People!  
> It’s the third part of the story, after “Should have” and “505”. You can read them separately, though.  
> English is not my native language, so I apologise in advance for any mistakes you may find.  
> As before, this is a product of my overactive imagination and sleepless nights. Shameless romance and fluff. You have been warned.

To tell she was angry, was a massive understatement. She was livid. She was furious at him, but probably even more at herself. She was supposed to be better than this, stronger. She was not supposed to let herself crumble because of him. Not again. And yet, fifteen minutes after she’d opened her apartment door, she was sitting on her couch in her underwear and the first t-shirt she grabbed from a drawer, leaving clothes scattered around the corridor. She was holding a bottle of wine, not even bothering to get herself a glass and tried not to sob. She didn’t even have strength to go and get a shower after the party she’d just got back from. She knew he would be there, he was one of the shareholders after all. She thought she was ready. Apparently, she was not. She only wished she had realised it sooner.

***

This evening was supposed to be the moment she proved to herself that everything was water under the bridge. That she was free. She hadn’t seen Lucius for six months. She finally stopped crying and feeling sorry for herself. She’d even started dating again.

Now, when she thought about it, she should have seen it coming. She went on a few dates with a guy she'd met at work, Mathieu. He was everything she could ever want, intelligent, handsome, carrying. He seemed to be genuinely interested in her. When he escorted her back to her flat after their second date and kissed her it felt... nice. He was a good kisser, there was nothing wrong with him. It was her. She felt numb.

She told herself that it will pass, that it was temporary. A few dates later, he invited her to his flat. She knew very well where that was going. She tried to make herself feel excited but now, in reminiscence, she knew she had been fooling herself. She took a long bath, put on nice lingerie and showed up for dinner. It was perfect, he was perfect. And yet, it was wrong. His hands, his lips, his skin, it all felt wrong. She felt like she was being violated. She stopped him before anything happened, made some stupid excuse and left. She spend most of the night sobbing under her shower. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with her. Why couldn’t she just enjoy a handsome man, like she used to? Was she somehow broken?

Deep inside, she knew what was happening, even if she didn’t want to admit it. It felt wrong, because it was not _him_. Not _his_ hands, _his_ skin, _his_ lips she was kissing. But she chose to live in denial and prove herself that she was not broken. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

That’s why she tried to fix things with Mathieu. She called him a few days later, apologised and invited him to a work function. Formal office party, thrown annually for the shareholders to make them happy and keep them paying. To her relief and a bit of surprise, he agreed.

While picking a dress and getting ready, she told herself it was for Mathieu. It was for him she was making all the effort. For him she spend almost an hour straightening her hair, for him she took extra care into her makeup, for him she chose her underwear.

Of course, it was all a load of crap and deep down, she already knew it.

Even though he’d broken the connection the night they last saw each other, Lucius felt when she came into the room. The moment he turned around and saw her, he felt like he swallowed a bag of stones. She was a vision. A black dress she wore was quite modest, covering her from her neck to her knees but the way it hugged her body made his breath hitch. He didn’t care that his associate was still talking to him and it was definitely rude not to listen. Not realising what he was doing, he started walking towards her. He didn’t move more than half a step though, when he saw a tall, black haired, young man wrapping his arm around her waist and bending down his head to say something to her ear. Lucius forced himself to turn back to his associate, making apologies and trying to focus on their conversation again. Anything, not to concentrate on the feeling like he was punched to the chest.

_“What happens now?”_

_He knew, why she wanted to meet him there. He was feeling it for weeks. He knew she was growing tired, that she wanted more. He dreaded the moment she had enough. Finally, it was there._

_“I can’t give you what you need,” he said, looking at his tumbler._

_“Oh.”_

_When she didn’t say anything more, he finally looked at her. She seemed calm, but he knew her too well. Her eyes betrayed her._

_“And what do you think I need?” she asked. He noticed her fingers were trembling on her wineglass._

_“I am not a man for you. You deserve so much better. You deserve someone-”_

_“Spare me,” she interrupted him, holding her hand up. “I was prepared for basically anything but not this. I never thought you a coward.”_

_She slipped from a barstool and grabbed her bag. He thought she was going to leave, but she turned around and faced him, chin raised high and eyes as fierce as ever._

_“It is fine if you don’t want us to be something more, to people to know about us,” she said. “But please do not hide it in some kind of “it’s not you, it’s me” speech.”_

_“Alena, that’s not what I-” Lucius tried to grab her arm and interrupt her, but she took a step back, out of his reach._

_“And if it is really what you think, then you should know how I just love when other people make my decisions for me.”_

_He tried to say something but the look in her eyes stopped him. The eyes that always looked at him with such an adoration he’d never known before, so open and so deep, were now full of hurt and anger and, what was the absolute worst, disappointment._

_These eyes have been hunting him every night since._

She saw Lucius the moment she came in. He was not looking at her, talking to some other man. It was like she forgot how to breathe for a moment. He was dressed in all black, his hair glamoured shorter, like always when around Muggles. She’d seen him looking as good many times before, yet somehow it took her off guard. She knew that she was staring and at some point he was going to look at her. She wanted and fretted that moment at the same time. She stood frozen, panic rising in her throat. When she finally came to her senses and turned around to leave, Mathieu was next to her, pulling her to him.

Now, she was sitting at the bar. Mathieu had gone to the restroom, at least she thought so. She couldn’t really stay present the entire evening. She was trying to focus on the man next to her but she was failing miserably. He was a perfect gentleman and was really easy to be around. All of her co-workers, especially women, seemed to be taken with him. She should have been happy and proud. However, she felt on edge and couldn’t wait to go home. She was irritated, but mostly with herself. Everything went great and she knew, that Mathieu was waiting for her invitation to come home with her. Alena was sure, that was not going to happen but had no idea how to tell him that.

Lucius was leaning against the wall, trying to get lost in the crowd. He was not in the mood to talk to anyone. His mind was reeling. It was probably best if he’d left, but he couldn’t bring himself to go.

Alena was sitting at the bar, her companion nowhere to be seen. She was sipping a glass of wine, looking around the room with bored expression. After a moment, a tall blond woman came to her, and greeted her with a kiss on a cheek. When Alena turned to her, absentmindedly swiping her hair over her shoulder, revealing low cut back of her dress, Lucius cursed under his breath.

He was suddenly even more uncomfortable than before and had to adjust his trousers slightly. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that she did that on purpose. The only thing he could think of was her tanned skin under his fingers and how he would like to trail the line of her spine with his tongue.

Yet, he was the one that had made her go. He told himself that he was trying to do the right thing, to set her free. That she was better off without him.

When her date came back and joined the conversation between two women, putting his hand on Alena’s bare back, Lucius’ blood boiled. And in that moment he realised just how much he fucked up.

***

After taking a second sip of wine from the bottle, she finally decided to get herself a glass. Somehow, drinking like that felt really low and she didn’t need to feel more sorry for herself than she already did.

She just got to sit back on the couch, when someone knocked on the door. “Food, finally,” she thought, standing back up. She went to open, not caring one bit about her skimpy clothing and not looking through a peephole.

“No,” she said, when she saw Lucius standing outside her apartment. Her heart was beating frantically, her whole body started shaking. She was in no state to deal with him right now.

She went to close the door immediately, but he put his foot between the door and the doorframe. She tried to push harder but he was much stronger than her.

“Leave,” she hissed, when he managed to get inside and closed the door behind him.

“No. I want to talk to you.”

Lucius hadn’t planned to go to see her. When she’d left the party, he left too, not seeing any reason to stay there any longer. He was wandering the street, feeling restless. He couldn’t stand the idea of going home and probably drinking himself to sleep. What’s more, he couldn’t stop imagining her with _him_. The image of _his_ hands on her made him sick and furious. He had no right to be and yet, he was. Without much thought, he grabbed a cab and knocked on her door. He had no plan what to do next. Would he grab that man and what, punch him, toss him out? It all sounded ridiculous but he wasn’t thinking straight.

When she opened the door, he felt physically sick. She was alone and she had been crying. Somehow, he was sure it was not because of that prat. It was because of him. He made her that much miserable.

She was fuming and wanted him out. She had every right to. But he couldn’t leave. Not like that, not again.

She couldn’t believe him. She just couldn’t fucking believe him.

“Talk to me? You want to talk to me? Suddenly, today, you feel the need to see me? Why-” Alena was losing the last sliver of control she had left. She narrowed her eyes at him, when she understood. “You saw me with another man. That’s why you’re here.”

“No, it’s not-” Lucius tried to interrupt her but she knew, she was right, at least to some extent.

“It is exactly that. You saw me tonight. Were you alone at that party? Of course you were,” she answered her own question, without letting him speak. “There was nobody good enough for you to bring home? Maybe your dick itched a little. Or maybe you’re just being a dog in the manger. You don’t want me but you can’t stand seeing me happy with somebody else. Is this all a pissing contest for you? Do you need to show that-”

“Enough,” Lucius shouted, hitting his fist hard against the door.

Alena froze. She was panting, eyes wide, so angry that she was sure he must have _felt_ it. However, she was also a bit scared. He had never, ever yelled at her.

Lucius didn’t mean to yell. He never raised his voice. He believed, that someone who was not able to win an argument or make another listen without shouting was weak, pathetic, desperate.

The idea struck him like a bus on full speed. That was exactly true. He _was_ pathetic. He’d let her go. He’d made her leave. Yet now, he was standing in her apartment ready to beg for forgiveness and begging was another thing he had never done. Never. He _was_ desperate. Desperate for her to listen, to understand, to take him back. Desperate to erase from his mind the idea of another touching her. He _was_ weak because he was not able to forget, to stuck to the decision he had made. She made him weak. And that was why he had told her to go, why he had made that decision himself, not letting her chose him with all its consequences. Not out of chivalry but out of fear.

In the same time, he realised that she also made him strong. She made him less afraid of many things but mostly, of himself. She accepted and wanted him as he was, with no exceptions, with no expectations. And that made him bold. She made him happier than he’d ever thought he could or deserved to be.

Now was the time to decide, which part of him was more important. The proud one or the one that was hers.

“Enough,” Lucius repeated, in a lower and much softer voice. “I didn’t come here for this. I need to tell you something and then I will leave if that is your wish. I don’t really have a right to but I am asking you to hear me out. ”

She should have told him to go to hell but instead, she nodded her head, still rooted to the spot.

“You’re right,” he said, trying to come closer to her, but she moved back quickly. “I am here because of tonight. I am here because I saw you with another man. But it is not some fucking pissing contest. I realised something today, that I probably should have realised much sooner.”

Alena snorted. “Sure. You are going to tell me now, how you’ve missed me and-”

“I _have_ missed you.”

Lucius looked her straight in the eyes. Everything was there. The same as it had been. The look that every single time made her breath hitch and her heart beat faster. Nobody had ever looked at her as he did.

“I tried to move on but I couldn’t. The mere thought about someone else made me sick. It felt wrong but I hoped it will pass. And then I saw you tonight and I realised that it won’t. I fucked up and I don’t know what more I could say to make you realise...”

This time, when he came closer, she didn’t move. He stopped a feet away from her and she tried not to lose her mind when she was enveloped in his scent. Cedar and tobacco and wood and... He smelled like home and it frightened her more than anything. She had been trying to get free, to forget, to start over and she was on a good way to do just that.

“You left me, not the other way around,” she said, trying to sound much collected than she felt.

“I thought I was doing the right thing, believe me. I never thought about it as making a decision for you. I was just trying to set you free.”

She didn’t stop him when he reached for her arm. His grasp was hard, almost painful.

“I should have let you decide. I just wanted better for you. I was afraid that in a few years you are going to realise that associating with me is not exactly the best idea and it can do you more damage than good. That you are going to leave at some point and have to deal with the fallout. That being mine will mean burning all the bridges you are building.”

The look of vulnerability in his eyes made her chest hurt. He was honest, that much she knew.

“What if I never wanted to be free?” Alena asked. Apparently, her heart and her sane mind were not working together on this. She couldn’t help but put her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch and stepped closer. “What if would never leave?” She twined her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “What if I let them burn?”

With her words, he felt like his heart burst inside his chest. The space he always thought to be forever empty and scorched, filled with something hot, like molten lava. But it was not destroying, it was mending.

His lips were on hers before she could even blink. Hard, demanding, possessive. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. She twisted her fingers harder in his hair, making him groan. He was pulling her to him so hard that she was probably barely able to breathe. She smelled like vanilla and spice and just _her_. For the first time, he allowed himself to be lost in that moment because he knew, he would find himself in her. That moment he promised himself to never willingly let her go again.

They seemed not be able to get close enough or maybe both of them was afraid, that the moment they let go, even just a bit, the other would disappear.

After a while, he slid his hands down her arms and palmed both of her breasts. He silently congratulated her for her choice of a dress and not wearing a bra that night, before roughly pinching her nipples.

“God,” she moaned, wrenching her lips from his.

His mouth slipped to her jaw and then her neck. He was nibbling and sucking her skin, making her more and more breathless.

Slowly, Lucius slid down her body and kneeled before her. He looked up at her, holding her hips tight.

“If you let me-” he said, kissing her skin just under her navel. “If you forgive me-” His lips slid lower, over her black lace underwear. “If you have me-” His lips hovered just over her core and were brushing her as he spoke. “I will spend my life trying to atone for ever letting you go.”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she lifted her leg and hooked it over his shoulder. Then she steadied herself by entwining her hands in his hair and pulled him to her.

Still holding her hips with one hand, he slid the other one down, under the hem of her panties. She was scorching hot, already swollen and wet, so ready for him. He tried not to think that _that man_ might have touched her like that. Even if he had, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered but the fact that she was his now and he was hers.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her skin, parting her folds with his thumb. “I should have known it sooner and should have said it a long time ago.”

Lucius looked up again and seeing her heaving chest, hooded eyes and parted lips, wondered how he could’ve been so goddamn stupid.

“I am yours.”

Alena didn’t even have a chance to respond to his words. He ripped her flimsy underwear and his lips were on her in an instant. He had to grab her tighter because with the first flick of his tongue her knees almost gave out.

She was absolutely lost in the sensation. She moaned loudly, throwing her head back, pulling him even closer and grinding against him. She probably should have been embarrassed about how wantonly she acted but she wasn’t. She felt free, like the shackles restricting her chest for months had fallen down and she could breathe again. Besides, if his loud groan she felt vibrating through her was anything to go by, Lucius didn’t mind.

That’s why it had never happened with Mathieu. It was not him, not Lucius. There was no rational reason behind this. In some moment, the universe had decided that nothing ever will be as good as this was. Nothing ever will be good enough, if it was not him. Only him.

She came quickly, with a sharp cry and tears streaming down her cheeks. There were so many emotions boiling inside her and she had nowhere to put them.

When her knees finally gave out, Lucius caught her, standing up just in time. He kissed her roughly, pushing his tongue deep into her mouth. The taste of her, of him, of her tears mixed together. Alena was so overwhelmed that she didn’t know what to do with herself. Her hands trembled, her knees were weak. She was lost in the taste, the smell, the thought that it was real. He was real, he was here, he was hers.

Lucius wrapped her arms around his neck, and slid his hands down her butt to the back of her thighs, pulling her up. She understood, and lifted herself, wrapping her legs around his hips.

He moved to her bedroom and sat down on a bed with her still tightly wrapped around him.

Alena pulled her t-shirt off and threw it carelessly on the floor. She didn’t have patience for his shirt either. Buttons scattered around them as she tugged harshly at the material.

It all felt like madness. They couldn’t stop touching each other, both lost in some kind of trance. His lips were everywhere. On her face, on her neck, on her breasts, anywhere he could reach. She managed to open his pants and pull them down his thighs, just enough to free his shaft.

Not being able to wait any longer, she pushed herself up on her knees and eased herself down on him.

He cursed loudly and pulled her to him, twisting his hand in her hair and wrapping his arm around her waist. She kissed him, deep, hard, not being able to tell him, but wanted to show him what it all felt like for her. She knew, he understood. His grip on her was almost painful, like he truly was desperate to keep her, afraid to let go even just an inch.

Suddenly, like the fog was lifted for a second, she realised what it was, what he needed her to do. Alena stilled for a moment. She leaned back just a little and reached for his hands. Lucius seemed confused but let her take them off her.

“You can let go,” Alena whispered against his lips. “I am not going anywhere. I am here to stay. I am not going to run.”

She gently pushed his shirt of his shoulders, helped him tug his pants all the way down and guided him to lay back.

He looked back at her, breathing heavily. Then he slowly slid his hands up her thighs and bucked his hips, thrusting into her.

Alena gasped, arching her back and leaning her arms on his legs. They moved in a rhythm they knew so well, like they’d done so many times before. Yet every time it seemed a bit new, a little different. She never wondered how that was even possible. After all this time it should feel a bit boring, routine but it didn’t. Every time it felt familiar and new at the same time. The paradox, she could not comprehend.

Soon, she was close to coming and straighten her back. He was so beautiful like this. His hair sprawled and tangled on her pillow, a sheer layer of sweat on his temples, his lips swollen and eyes hazy. She’d seen this picture many times before but was sure that it won’t become any less breathtaking after a thousand times more.

Alena leaned down and kissed him, gently this time, savouring the feeling of his arms wrapping around her and his body pressed tightly against hers.

Lucius rolled them around, pressing her back to the mattress. He thrust hard into her, their eyes locked together, unfocused but full of indescribable need, until she couldn’t hold any longer and came, locking her thighs tightly around him, throwing her head back and opening her lips in a scream that never sounded. He followed her soon after, burring his head in her neck with a grunt that sounded suspiciously like her name.

“I am sorry for this.”

Sometime later, they laid on her bed, with his back against the headboard and hers against his warm chest.

“What do you mean?” Alena asked, not really understanding. She felt a cold shiver running down her spine. Did he change his mind? Was she stupid to had trusted him?

“I am sorry for these,” he said, sliding his hand down her arm.

She looked down and saw red marks on her skin, where he’d grabbed her earlier. 

His hand slid lower, pushing down the quilt, covering their legs.

“And these,” he said, lightly touching another marks his fingers had left on her hips.

She grabbed his wrist and gently pushed his hand further.

“I don’t mind,” she moaned, when his fingers slid against her clit. “I never did.”

He chuckled lowly against her ear.

“Let me turn the tables this time,” he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe and pushing a finger deep inside her. Her back arched and she pressed her hips against him, feeling him getting harder against her butt. “Now you tell me, what happens now.”

He was moving his hand painfully slowly, deliberately avoiding the spots he knew were making her crazy.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked, trying to grind her hips against his hand but he sneaked an arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against his chest.

“It is a simple question. What do you want to happen?”

His fingers finally brushed against that sweet little spot inside her and his thumb circled firmly around her clit. It was really not fair to ask her questions when she was that much distracted.

“Tell me, what do you want,” he demanded, palming her breast with his free hand.

“You,” she breathed. “This. Us. All.”

It was all she could manage before she was lost in a fog of his smell, his body against her, his hands on her and inside her, feeling his rapid pulse on his wrist she was now grabbing tightly.

When she slumped in his arms, spent and very much content, he leaned his head again and whispered against her ear, “Marry me then.”


End file.
